Sins of the Father
by renelenier
Summary: Two years after Arthur has returned from war, Merlin sends him a message of warning in his dream. Please R/R
1. And The Truth Shall Make You Mad

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Merlin. The fictional characters here and the story is mine. :)

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I release a stunned breath from my body. Eyes shooting open, my chest is heaving from the images in my dreams, and the words of warning from my sorcerer still haunt my mind. A face not unlike mine, eyes of blue and hair of gold with pale skin and rosy lips. He's beautiful, but Merlin tells me he is evil. The warlock's predictions of my own children have been right in so far as to my first born. But how could this boy be wicked? He is a mere child and what Merlin asks of me is nothing short of disbelief.

I turn my head to see my wife resting, sleeping in peace. We have been so at ease since the birth of our son. He is more than a year old now, born in the middle of the first winter since my last war. He looks like her, behaves her like her, thinks like her. She takes pity and tells me he will fight like me. I suppose it is something.

We thought we were fighting and winning against my father's will, in the end though, he was rewarded with all his final wishes. I married days after his death and produced a male heir before our third anniversary. But it has not come without consequences as my sister is lost to all us for good. It hurts the women closest to me. My guilt, I try to hide but they know me too well. The pain is impossible for any of us to ignore. But there are others who wish to comfort us despite having been away. Lord Charles and Lady Margaret will be returning to court. I am amazed that somewhere in all the years of intrigue the four of us we are able to find friendship. Guinevere told me that Charles is aware of the real reason I sent his wife away. I have never spoken of it with the man, my friend, but the pair's love seems quite genuine despite the knowledge of it. It will be good to see him again because I have missed my friends. My mind always goes to Lancelot first. His absence at my wedding stung deep. After the war, he returned to Sussex but King Alinad was the one who told me he had left his court not long after he had returned. He gave the old, beleaguered king nothing in the way of explanation. I went to Alinad before he died. Having no heir, he ceded his lands to me under the condition that his daughter would be free to marry as she wished. Of all the remaining kingdoms, and there were not many left, he thought that I would be the most inclined and able to grant such a thing. It was not long after that that Lancelot wrote me. He spoke of travel far to the south and well into the lands of our rulers of old. And while he had seen much in his time away, he announced to me that he would return and serve me once more, if I would forgive his offense. I could do no less for him and would do more if he would allow it, but he only asked for a small home in Sussex and the promise that he would visit us soon. I can tell that he is heartbroken. At first I thought he was one of those men who did not know how to stop fighting, but in the months that we have written each other I have come to believe that it is more than that.

Llacheu's nursery is attached to Guinevere's chamber, so this is where I sleep. Wanting to be close to both of them at all times, I have only spent nights in my own chambers when they left to visit my mother's home in Tintagel earlier this summer. It was the first time my wife and I had not shared a bed since the day she told me she was with child. It was important to me that she knew of my commitment to her and this was the most convincing way for me to show it.

My son sleeps like his mother too. It makes me proud to think that they can both feel so protected under my rule. My kingdom has swollen since our defeat of the Mercians and thanks to his mother, we have many friends who remember our charity, countless newcomers to our shores eager to do trade and enough well trained men to defend it. I used to think that she could one day grow into a Queen, but it surprised even me to find that she was really born to be a King.

I sigh again. Never would I have thought this, but of all of them I miss Merlin the most. I depended on his wisdom above all others in the final days of battle. No one knows when he will return. He only visits from time to time in our dreams, hers more than mine. I prayed too hard to see him again, for now I know I will see him very soon in the flesh. This is the third night in as many nights he has visited my slumber. There is trouble coming and he will bring word of it. Now I pray that he will bring me a better choice than the one he has given me on this night.

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A/N: This is just an excerpt from a very long fic that I'm half way through, but I wanted to share it. I hope you enjoy it, but if you don't I won't stalk you from the bushes outside your house until you love it. Either way...I'd love to hear what you think, so please review.


	2. The Innocent Never Suspects the Wicked

**This has been stuck in my head for a solid month. I couldn't write anything to continue this story. I'm still very much just posting this one as the chapters develop and I'm comfortable enough to share them. I hope you like this addition. I would love to hear your thoughts since there's opportunity to impact the storyline. **

**A small sidebar. The first half of this story was written in first person and present tense and the first part of this chapter picks up from there, but beyond this bit of dialog the story will be in third person and past tense. This first scene is a continuation of Chapter 1: And the Truth Shall Make You Mad. **

**Enjoy...  
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"Arthur, what are you doing?"

"I am watching him sleep."

"_You_ cannot sleep."

"I did not say that."

"And you are not speaking to one of the men of your council."

My heavy sigh only proves to her that she is right. "I did not mean to wake you."

"I will forgive it, if you are honest about what keeps you up."

"Merlin came to me again." I turn to look at her. "I would like him to return to you. I know how you miss him. What sort of King am I if I cannot even control my sorcerer?"

"The kind that haunts his son and keeps his wife awake at night," she says resting her head against the side of the wall inside the doorway as she looks at me.

Her eyes were bright for the late evening and her sleeping gown is too thin to ignore what is beneath. I tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear and I hold her face. "You are in no condition to be up. Gaius said–"

"Do not begin to tell me what your physician and I know all too well."

"Then you should know that you are to be in bed, even if I wake you."

"I do not know why I have your children."

"I think we know very well the why and the how of it," I tell her, kissing as she giggles into my lips.

"You should go to him," she says.

"What?"

"Go to Merlin as he asks you."

I should have known he would use her to try and sway me. "When did you see him last?"

"It has been a while now, but he told me that the time would come where he might need me to convince you of something. What does he want Arthur?"

I cannot tell her this. She would hate us both. We already asked too much of her before. "He wishes that I ride to see him before the summer ends."

"Then I do not understand." She narrows her brow and wraps her fingers around my hand that refuses to let go of her. "Why would something so small be a bother to you?"

"It does not bother me. I told you. I know that you miss him. I only wish for him to come home."

"Do not fret about me. He will come home soon, I know it."

* * *

Merlin moved slowly through the campsite. Easy strides and in his long robe of a deep emerald color it was as if he was floating inches above the ground. Most of the men were asleep, but his appointment is with a sleepless knight – a visit with a restless king.

He opened the flap in the front of the unprotected tent. These lands had not seen war, no strife even in the time of the great Mercian and Saxon raid. The first one; there are more to come, he thought. Merlin conceded to himself that Arthur had no reason to fear it but this was carelessness on his part. He was still the king and his destiny proclaimed too much to be so loose with his life. There was candlelight in the center of the room only. He could see that his makeshift bed was empty. Now the warlock understood. The man's restlessness was worse than he expected.

"I should kill you simply for keeping me waiting." The feeble sword of his Lord and Master pressed into his spine.

"You could try," he replied. There was an effort to bring a lightness to his tone despite knowing that the man was in no mood for this even though they had not seen each other in more than two years.

"I have been camped here for three days Merlin, waiting for you to see fit to come to me. I have told you before not to forget your place."

"I am sorry Arthur, but your anger is not truly with me." The blade fell from his back and hit the floor in a weak thud. Merlin did not turn to see his face though he doubt that he could make out any of his features in the darken corner nor did he really need to.

"Did you know?"

"She told me the night before we left for war."

"How could all of you keep this from me?"

"It was not all of us. She wanted to tell you. I asked her not to. He asked her not to. Not telling you that the Queen and your best knight had met before was a necessity. No different than when you married the Duke and Morgana, against her wishes, to solidify an army that could match the combined threat of the Mercians and the Saxon hoard. I sided with you then, against both of my friends and I defended your decision most of all to your wife. If you knew this thing then, you would have lost a war for little more than unreturned affection – not even you could honestly deem holding a stranger's hand to comfort sea sickness and a few walks together, courting. It was nothing Arthur."

"Who are you to say that it was nothing? Or to conclude that I should not be able to deem it what I like?" Arthur stepped out of the shadow and pushed his way past the sorcerer. He stomped to the back of the structure where he sat in his chair.

"What does it matter now? All of us have lived a lifetime since those days. She is your wife and has been true to you always in spite of all the hurt you have caused her, both then and now."

The King shot him a weary glance. "Do you invade our private talks all the time or just whenever it suits you?"

Merlin sighed. It was a foolish question. One did not have to be a sorcerer of any caliber to know that when a man learns that his friend once loved his wife he would be angry and say spiteful things to both of them, who he believed had offended him. "It is your right as King to be angry with each of us, but it was your actions, after all, that drove her from your kingdom. They would have never met on that boat crossing the channel if you had not been so much like your father then; none of this would have happened. You know I speak the truth."

He watched as his King, who was always just a man when it came to her, pressed his fingers into his temples. "I am a fool Merlin."

The warlock whose hair was much longer since he was last in his king's company, grayer too, took the chair beside him and placed his staff on the table. None of his actions seemed to make a sound. "We have all been foolish Your Majesty. What happened between Lancelot and Guinevere is the least of it. She told you before that her heart belonged to you. Do not question it. Not after all that she has been through for our sakes."

"I must go back to her before the child comes. I should not have left her. I should not have said..." he couldn't bring himself to say. "She could worry and cause harm to her or the baby."

Arthur's head fell into one of his palms and his fingers grabbed hold of his hair as he stared at the flaps blowing open whenever the wind decided. Reading his eyes, – or his mind, Merlin could do both now if he wished – he saw that his friend wanted nothing more than to ride back to Camelot tonight.

"She will be fine. Both of you will see all of your sons."

"What do you want Merlin?" He asked still fixed in deliberation.

"I have told you what is needed, what must be done."

He closed his eyes slowly as if pushing away his previous thoughts to face this new worry. "I cannot kill a child."

"He will kill you."

They look at each other. "He is perhaps a year older than my own son. I look into that boy's eyes and I see Llacheu. I am no monster Merlin and I refuse to believe that you have become one."

Merlin shook his head. "Then we must make amends. I do not believe that she will agree, but we must try. It is the only other way."

"Enough riddles. From now on you will speak plain and you stories complete."

"The child is yours Arthur." The previous distress that anchored itself on the King's face was removed. Confusion, genuine perplexity took root. Only a whisper of time past between the two expressions but it was enough for the sorcerer to see the brief release of anxiety – another lesson he learned from his time in seclusion. Having been surrounded by the magic within the Crystal Cave for so long, one loses touch with the strength of its awesome effects in the outside world. His newest powers still surprised him.

"You are mad. How can the child be mine?"

"You did not do it of a conscious mind. She visited you in your dreams. It was where it started; from the dreams that I gave to both you and Guinevere to comfort you while we were away in battle."

"What are you talking about?"

"She learned from the witches. The dreams that I imparted onto you were her vessel. If you do not remember it, she must have come to you in the form of your wife or stolen the images from your memory; but it was she you laid with and you have conceived a child together. That boy, Modred; he is your son."

"That is not possible. You can do these things in one's dreams?"

"Arthur, calm yourself."

"You tell me all of this and ask me for serenity? Who is this woman sorcerer?"

"It is Morgana, Arthur."

He almost laughed. "You speak of madness. She is my sister."

"She was the King's ward. You are not blood."

"But never had we not acted like it," he countered.

"And these past two years, how often has your sister been to see you? Or responded to your letters pleading for forgiveness not for your sake but for Guinevere's? Has she responded to them? To any attempts on your part for the slightest of absolution?

Another whisper; he sees the sad truth in the query. "She would not harm us." He shook his head. "I accepted her anger for me and grieved that my decision broke the bond of friendship between her and Guinevere, but this is a kind of vengeance borne of an evil heart. I cannot believe that she was or could ever be like that."

"There is still time. She is not completely lost to us." He knows this is a lie to comfort his friend and perhaps himself too. Even with all his new talents, he could not bring himself to see what was inside Morgana's heart. She too had developed talents of her own, far greater than he ever could have expected. "You must go to her and bring her and the boy back to Camelot –"

"Bring them back?" He interrupted. "How can you ask me to do that? She is like a sister to more than just me. If Guinevere were to learn of the things you speak of," he shook his head again. "No, not this Merlin. Not this. I will not risk my family."

"You give your advisor no options."

"No, I demand better ones from him."

"There are few in this instance; for that I am sorry Sire." He knew what would come next from the King. Condemnation. _That might be justified, but I was not as strong then._ Accusation. Wild ones, he wondered, then sighed reminding himself that he had already decided it was best not to revisit that part of his history. For Merlin, now, surprises were only the things he chose not to see.

"You speak of sorrow and with formal addresses but where were you when she did this? When she came to my bed from my dream?" A moment passes as Arthur scanned his thoughts. In the dim light of the candles at the table he could see the pinch of an awful thought grab at the mind of the man and the anger that grew from it. "Have you ever done such a thing to Guinevere?"

"You are a fool King. You have witnessed my powers even while they were still nascent. Do you think that I could not cast a spell and charm your wife as well as you or enchant you so that you would forget you ever loved her?"

"My father was right about your kind. What is to stop any of you to enter the minds of men and ruin their hearts?"

"This _is_ borne of evil Arthur. Magic can only do. It does not choose. My kind, as you call us, are left with that burden and not all of us are good or pure. Sorcerers fight just as knights do, for causes just and for wicked gains; it is no different because we do not carry swords or wear suits of armor."

At his worse he was not like Uther. Magic was something this King used whenever it pleased him or when needed. It is shock and fret that forces such words from him.

"I will not sleep tonight. I do not even desire it from fear of what might happen."

He pulled a small vile from underneath his cloak and placed it before the man. "It will help and you will sleep without worry should you take it, but I would understand if you do not trust me now. I have given you much to think of and little of it good."

He stood and took his staff.

"I will ride with you in the morning if that is your wish. Your son is coming Arthur."

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**A/N: I have no idea on when you might expect an update. I apologize but hopefully inspiration will compel me soon.**


	3. Born to Blossom, Bloom to Perish

Born to Blossom, Bloom to Perish

-Gwen Stefani, "What Are You Waiting For"

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Arthur rose to sit on his cot. Soon the sun would peek out above the horizon and overtake the stars' lights in the sky. He stared at the remedy still in its place on the table where the sorcerer had left it. It shone whenever the darkness inside of the tent was interrupted by the opening of the flaps and the draft of wind would make the candlelight flicker.

He looked at it jealously and wished now for the peace it would offer him; but it was too late. He and the few knights he had taken with him for protection must ride at the first signs of the new day if they were to make it back to the castle without camping for another evening. All night there had been a twisting knot in his stomach.

Merlin's last words: 'Your son is coming'. Which one he thought? The one that seeks to destroy me? In all of Merlin's dreams there had always been two, Llacheu and another yet unnamed. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what their faces looked like.

A frustrated sigh left his body. The King returned his belt and his sword to his waist and pulled one leather glove over his fingers. The others will have to ride without me, he said above a whisper to the nothingness of the room.

He exited the tent. One lone guard was posted outside. Merlin's doing, he thought.

"I am returning to the castle." He slipped the other glove over his hand. "See to it that the camp leaves before noon."

"Your Majesty," he said not questioning the wisdom – or lack their of – of the King riding by himself.

Arthur walked over his horse.

"You are stubborn." The voice came from behind him.

"You've always known this," he replied, mounting his steed. He sat and waited for his friend and counselor to join him. Merlin nudged his horse to stand next to his. "I am glad that you have returned to us Merlin." He dropped his head and continued in a quiet voice, "It will make her happy to see you again."

"Nothing makes her more happy than to see you Sire."

The man inside of the King smiled briefly; head still hung low he commanded his horse to speed to the city.

* * *

"Your Majesty," Geoffrey interrupted his hand wringing. The King did not respond. "Your Majesty, Sir Lancelot Du Lac is here as you requested. Should I ask him to wait Sire?"

More hand wringing, but still there are no words. The Minister of Records stood inside the threshold, eyes searching for any sign of affirmation or a dismissal, at the least an acknowledgment. Yet he waited non-the-less as this summons came from the King only moments prior.

Arthur had returned with the sorcerer in time to be told that the Queen was with the midwife. Too early for the child to come but too late for him to see her, one of her ladies told him. Now he is relegated to his meeting room while others around him attend to urgent chores.

Finally, the monarch nodded his head, sat back and brought his elbows to the arms of the chair unwinding his hands. The old man moved quickly and Lancelot entered.

The door shut them inside the room, made bright by a few stray candles that had been lit by Justus, his servant since he had promoted Merlin to his council. The advancement had seemed odd to all in his court but soon the young King removed the laws against magic that his father had written and once tales of the war returned to those left behind at the castle, everything became clear. Merlin's deeds have since become legend and where he was once treated as a nobody, he was now feared and revered by all.

"Your Majesty," the dark haired man spoke.

His King raised his eyes to meet his. More controlled now than in their last meeting, Arthur asked, "Do you love her Lancelot?"

The man cleared his throat. "Yes Sire, I do, with all of my heart," he stressed.

"And my wife?"

"Your Majesty, Guinevere is the Queen. I have pledge my life to her in service of my King." Arthur scoffed in his mind at the thought of this man calling him his King. "Our chance meeting all those years ago cannot be changed but even then it was clear that she loved only you. It is why she burnt my letter and why my father's emissary return with the ransom he was given to acquire her. I had no real opportunity of ever winning her affections beyond friendship despite the way I felt for her then. My Lord, I would not have returned to serve you had I felt otherwise."

Arthur always knew Lancelot was a better man than he was. He remembered the words of the emissary, the description of the unknown man who sought to take his Guinevere before he knew her importance to this kingdom. Lancelot was just as he had said he was: a noble man; a humble man; a King, literally among men.

"Forgive me Lancelot. My friend. I should not have doubted your fidelity." Or the love of my wife, he thought. "I know you only wished to protect me but I must ask you as my brother and my knight that you keep no further secrets from me."

"On my life Your Majesty."

"Her father entrusted her happiness to me before he died. I have seen the joy you have brought her. You have my blessing to marry Princess Elaine. You are a good man. I know her father loved you and would have been pleased that you've won her love."

The knight greeted his words with another of his customary deep bows. Of course he would be so gracious and precise in the execution of the act; as the first born son of a powerful Duchy and the self-exiled heir to the throne of all of Francia, he would know the proper way to address a King Arthur thought. He still wondered how Lancelot could have abdicated his throne to serve as a knight for not one but two Kings, both of whom ruled kingdoms of less wealth and stature than the one he had forsaken to the now Duke of Rouen, his brother.

The question came back to Arthur again and again: Could he have given his father's kingdom away to his younger brother, had he had a brother? He turned his head and stared at the hearth in his meeting room that had no fire roaring in it. It had been too warm a day for it and now as the evening crept along there was no purpose for it behind the stone walls of the castle.

Lancelot stood watching him. The subtle movement was his Lord's way of sending him away, letting him know that their business had concluded but he seemed fixed to the spot where he was standing.

"How is the Queen, Your Majesty?"

"The midwife tells me she is well, but it has been hours since it started. Llacheu was already born by now, I'm almost sure of it." Arthur could feel his chest open and his breathing becoming more even. Saying the words, out loud to someone else brought him some measure of comfort. That they were said to his friend was more of a reassurance.

Lancelot repeated his bow and started for the door.

"Sit with me," the King said. These words came pouring out of his mouth inside of the tears that were welling in his eyes.

His faithful knight did as he was instructed.

But the two men spoke no further words in the dim silent air of the room.

* * *

Arthur stared down at his wife in the darkness as she slept. The midwife, her maids, everyone it seemed to him, had not allowed him near her chambers until it was over. It was not any different with the first child, but somehow he could never grow comfortable with it.

He sat in the chair next to her bed, thinking and watching. He had told her favorite maid, Helewys, to apologize to his wife on behalf of the King. Arthur prayed that she had been given the message as he had ordered but the young maid's expression was not a particularly welcoming one to her King or his command. With cool eyes and tight lips she had simply nodded and returned to the Queen's chambers. The maid loved him as a loyal subject should, but she loved Guinevere far more.

I must have wounded my wife deeply, he thought. Their last encounter was not a heated exchange but it was no less cruel than if he or she had shouted and thrown stray objects at the other. He had behaved with a vindictive scorn which years before he had sworn to himself – and to her – that he would never do again.

"You look as tired as I am Your Majesty," she said and touched his face. The cool feeling of her fingertips forced opened his eyes to look at her again. "You never sleep anymore."

"How could I sleep? I am sorry Guinevere. Tell me you forgive me."

"Always Arthur," she said.

"She is beautiful."

"Like you. She has your hair."

He smiled and held on to her hand. They could use his warmth he told himself. "The midwife tells me you are well but that you must rest. You will not leave the bed, I command it. Tell me you will not defy me in this."

"I will do as you say."

"Go back to sleep now. I brought you a gift, but I will only give it to you when you wake again." Her lips parted into a thin smile, they were parched and not their usual soft pink color. He kissed her hand as she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep. He returned his head to the bed just beside her, refusing to let his eyelids fall but the relief of it felt too sweet. He had ridden all day and he even before last evening, rest had eluded him for weeks for the sake of worry. Sleep's release came swiftly now that he was home again with her, although its grip seemed too fleeting.

* * *

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty," the soft voice of Helewys quivered in his ear. "Your Majesty you must leave," she said louder.

"What is the matter?"

"Please Sire, you must leave the room now."

Arthur looked down at the bed, his wife looked pale. His hand slipped from her damp fingers as he was suddenly wrested away from her side by the Queen's guardsmen.

There was still warmth in her hands, but only just the faintest traces of it. Was the heat he felt from his hand alone, he thought in a frightful instance?

"Release me." The order left the King's lips sounding frail and seeming to fall to the ground instead echoing off the walls and down from the ceiling. The knight's insistent arms grabbed at his shoulders and chest as he struggled against their grips. His body showed more conviction than his mouth could muster.

"Arthur…" the warlock's voice came from beside him as if he had only just emerged from the shadows "…it will only make matters worse if you stay. Please, you must go now."

"Merlin," he clutched at the man's robe. The guards held their King but no longer fought against him. He pulled the sorcerer's face close to his as he spoke his name again, softer, more timid. "What is this?" He pleaded.

"She is not well. She has not stopped bleeding. She is dying Arthur."

His eyes widen and he grabbed at him once more, both hands grasping at the flesh and cloth about the neck of his emerald cloak cutting at the sorcerer's skin. "No! Save her," he commanded him finding his regal voice again.

"I will do my best Arthur."

"No, you will save her. She cannot die. She cannot die."

The guard's arms began to tighten and with a quick nod to them from Merlin, the King was once again being pulled out of the room against his will and all his might.

Arthur slammed his open palm upon the locked door, cheeks stained with tears, his body limped its way down the wooden surface. The two guards that he had put in charge of his wife's safety, his advisor Marcus, Helewys and Justus, the royal family's most trusted servants, stood in horror and watched the sight of the great man as he wept against the door. Their King was gone, leaving a shattered man in his place.

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**A/N: Okay, this posting is bittersweet because I had this written a couple of weeks back, but held it for some tweaking and although I like it, it kills me because after reading it again it feels a lot like episode 3x10 to me (in some places) and that upsets me greatly (Howard Overman get out of my head). And another thing, my next chapter is entitled 'The Sorcerer's Council' which is also quite similar to 3x11 entitled 'The Sorcerer's Shadow' therefore I may feel compelled to change my title**.


	4. The Sorcerer's Council

**Was not sufficiently compelled to change the chapter name after all.**

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The advisor acted first, commanding the guards to take the King to his chambers before any others could see him.

He said to Justus, "No one is to enter his quarters unless I say and he must not be made to leave if he remains in this state." The young servant made to follow after the knights, but Marcus' hand blocked him.

"Neither of you will speak of what you witnessed here unless you wish to lose your head. Not even to the Queen," he directed the last order to the young girl. They both nodded and one fled while the other kept her place outside the door. The advisor walked away with his fingers stroking down his hairy chin and brow furrowed. He stopped abruptly and returned to stand beside the maid.

"When the sorcerer calls you, tell him that I must speak with him at once."

His eyes searched her face frantically. She nodded again and he left down the hall.

* * *

"Merlin," the cool voice iced over his flesh. He was sitting with his head held in his hands, in the chair where Arthur sat when the sorcerer came hurdling into the room some time ago. He was exhausted. His forehead was covered in sweat, more from anxiety than exertion, though it was not easy work to conjure so much magic, even for him.

"Merlin!"

His eyes flickered open to see the smoky face of his constant companion. "Kilgharrah," he said.

"Merlin, what of the Queen?" The dragon never greets him with even the slightest of deference these days. It was not so long ago when it was him who would search out the beast and demanded answers getting in return riddles and legends from far into the future, now it was the dragon's turn to seek him out. A consequence of time, he thought.

"She is fine. She sleeps now and will not be disturbed." The cloud of smoke widened and now he could see the beast pacing some far flung or a nearby wood which one it was, he could not tell – it didn't matter anyway.

"You took a life to save her life?"

"No, she was not beyond my powers of healing."

"Then how is Albion's King? He refused the draft you prepared for him. He must we weary from travel too. And now this. He should know that she is well so that he might sleep. The darkest days are still yet to come. You know this well enough."

"I will speak with him." He looked beyond the specter to the woman lying soundly in the bed. The beast's magic moved the cloud of smoke to rest beside him so as to take in the face of the sleeping wife of King Arthur and the mother of his boy and girl child. How could that be, Merlin thought. In all of his visions he had not seen a girl.

"Do not dwell on it," the dragon said.

"How could I not have seen this? I had been right once before. Llacheu was right and the other that I saw was a boy."

"What you saw was a future. This present has been altered, twice now." The dragon's head stretched out from the cloud to whisper to his ear, "Can you not feel it?" His breath was as warm in the apparition as it would have been had the creature been standing next to him.

But it was right. He could feel it. He had felt it; the same moment he had felt that something was wrong with Guinevere.

"Merlin, Arthur blames himself for this. For leaving her the way he did. He believes their quarrel is the reason for her near death."

"I know but that is to be expected of any man. He loves her. He would blame himself for not protecting her from anything."

"Will you not tell him?"

"How can I? He would never forgive her."

The puff of smoke tightened around Kilgharrah's face and then moved back to float before the warlock. "Had you not been with eyes closed at just the right moment, she would have left this place. Her essence would have slipped past this realm forever; stolen by Morgana's hand. The witch should not be forgiven for this Merlin."

His lips parted at his words in the way that Merlin hated to see because he could never truly tell if the beast was smiling in pleasure or whether it was just the miserable consequence of his breed to be born with such features.

"There is no other way. She loved them once. I still believe that she could love all us again."

The smoke flew up in a start and hovered above the Queen. "Is this not proof enough that what you seek is fancy? She loved her the most yet she has set her forces against her."

"I," he started to defend himself first and then hoped to find words for the woman that had once been so kind to him but nothing more came. For all that he had learned, for the years of wisdom that had been impart onto him so as to gray his hair and beard in place, still none of it could show him the right path now. "What else am I to do?"

The question was a concession, for he knew the dragon's answer. Whenever this was the matter, the beast's position had always been the clearest.

"She is beyond reason, even yours now. The female child is only alive because you protected it in the Queen's womb never believing that the woman's vengeance had grown so much in these years to befall the mother herself."

A flurry of images entered into the warlock's mind: a laughing King and Queen; two little boys playing with wooden swords; a pale face with raven hair and ruby red lips. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut.

The dragon began to speak again, but this time his tone was somber. "You were not wrong about the child. The witch formed female where male should have been."

Merlin gasped for air and clutched his heaving chest, wondering just how long he had been holding that breath. His eyes traveled upwards to meet his companion's. Again the smoke filled vision of the beast's face moved to sit beside his head. His eyes didn't follow it but trained themselves onto the Queen sleeping in her bed.

"You must see now that you were wrong about her Merlin. She must die and her son with her or you and Arthur and all that you both love will suffer at her hands."

The dusty apparition faded away and his watery eyes blinked until they were dry again. He stood and left the room, making his way to the other end of the corridor and into the King's chambers. The guards muttered something about needing to be permitted but what could they do to stop him. Stab him with their sword, he thought laughing.

Arthur was crouched on the floor next to the fire with a jug of ale by his feet. His arms and head sat atop his bent knees. Almost instantly he had regained all of his fortitude and nobility at knowing she would be well again.

As the beast had said earlier, the man blamed himself for her condition and though it pained him to once again keep secrets from his friend, he urged him not to think such things. Of course he wanted to go to her right away but for now they both need rest. He left him alone in his chambers having finally convinced him to take the draft.

* * *

"Lord Merlin, may I have a word with you?" Marcus stood before him as he came from inside of the room. "The King is better?"

"The King was not unwell," he replied and began walking down the hall. The man followed.

He disliked this man. He had fought against Guinevere when she was alone and had taken charge of Arthur's kingdom. Their struggle was not all his fault. In his rush to ready for war, Arthur had left the advisor to his rightful duties despite having already married Guinevere in secret. When he would only send the precious few commands that he had from the battlefield in letters to her, the entire council became disdainful and unleashed their anger at her; scheming against her at every turn.

It could not be an overt plot against her for all of them, the nobles, and everyone in the kingdom knew that she would be Queen one day so they could not challenge her outright. Arthur had already shown them the lengths at which he would go to see her made his wife. No one but her was spared from his temper and he protected her above everything else.

"You are a great sorcerer my Lord, so it would not be in my interest to be anything short of direct." Merlin took large strides, quicker as the man continued speaking, "The Queen and I have not always agreed in matters of state but she has proven herself a worthy ruler and I am not above admitting when I have been wrong. I was wrong to question her in many things while the King was away." The admission was rare from him. Merlin stopped in front of an alcove in the deserted corridor. They surveyed each other a little short of breath. "I think you know that I did not wish for their union. And in truth my feelings have not changed."

"We are far beyond that now advisor."

"Yes we are."

"Then do not speak to me of treason."

"That is not my wish my Lord," his quick answer sounded pale and shaking in its response. He swallowed and pushed his shoulders backwards, puffing out his chest and tried his words again. "All I meant to say My Lord is that the King's love for the Queen is great. His enemies know this as well as his friends. I do not doubt that she makes him a better man and thus a stronger King but I fear for us all should some grave ill come to her. It would ruin him."

Merlin glared deeper at him. "The King, any King is but a man with strengths and weaknesses. One might drink too much or bed too many whores too frequently and yes I suppose that one could love their wife to a degree that would displease you. Your King is like all Kings in this way. You should not have any more fear than those you held when you served his father."

"The King loves her too much. He must be made to love her less or perhaps love another as well. Our kingdom is at her mercy, surely you must know that?"

"Marcus, do not presume to think you could ever know what I know. The King and the Queen are well and his council should be overjoyed of it or be prepared to live with the consequences of betraying their happiness."

He bowed his head to the man as he went down the silent path back to Gaius' quarters. He had been given his own rooms, closer to the King and Queen years earlier but only slept their on occasion preferring to spend hours talking with his old confidant.

There would be much for them to discuss in what is left of this evening.

* * *

**A/N: I suspect a long wait before another update as I have not written any new chapters to date. I hope you like it. Thank you to everyone reading it and tracking and reviewing. **


	5. Other Times, Other Counsels

"How much longer must she sleep Merlin," Arthur asked.

The sorcerer looked on as he stroked her hair and ran his thumb against her skin. The King's eyes, although more rested now, were still troubled and at present dared not leave the face of his wife. It had been two days since he summoned the forces of his magic to save the Queen from death. Restored to a reasonable state of health, he made her to rest as to be certain that she would return untainted from the scarring events. He could not know for certain if she would have any recollection of her life slipping away from their world or the fight to bring her back, but he hoped that when she opened her eyes again and saw her family that it would be enough to spare any traces of suffering that may have chosen to linger deep inside her.

Arthur had not left his chambers until this morning and worst yet he had not visited with his council or allowed anyone other than their servants, the wet nurse and the midwife to enter any part of the royal family's quarter's – none of them were permitted to leave it either.

"Are you certain that she will recover?"

"Arthur," Merlin said placing a gentle palm on the man's shoulder so as to soothe him. "Guinevere is well. You know that I would not allow anyone to harm her."

The reassuring statement, in hindsight, was a confession and though it had not been meant as a question, the King nodded his agreement.

"Arthur, there are rumors that the Queen may have died and that you are in mourning with the children." Merlin would have wished to have had a conversation about any number of things besides this. He recognized the shared sentiment in his friend as Arthur squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of such a reality. "You must speak with the court and allay their fears."

He nodded and simply whispered, "Tomorrow."

The servant turned High Sorcerer left.

As he exited the Queen's bed chambers, he watched the King and Guinevere for a moment. It was the first time he had actually seen them like this. Their official courtship had been brief, cut short by events of those days. In the meager hours they had together leading up to the war, there was little public interaction between them, as he planned battle tactics and she seemed to shun all of them.

At the time, he and Arthur had been convinced that her actions were as a result of Morgana's leaving after Arthur had unexpectedly signed Uther's marriage decree between his ward and his favorite, most powerful Duke. But soon after he learned that Guinevere had already forgiven them for that trespass and that the true reason she stayed away was because Lancelot had reappeared.

Merlin recalled the moment when she told him. They were alone at the start of winter and out of the sight of the court who sat inside at the feast made ready to bid the knights off to battle. Her revelation came long before his skills had been great enough to provide him with glimpses of their futures and it was one of the last things that had genuinely astonished him.

Prior to that evening, Lancelot was just a knight sent to King Uther's court to request the Prince's attendance at King Alinad's tourney. None of them thought they would see the aloof visitor again. But then months later he returned with a few other knights and a half-dead and most grateful scout who had been patrolling the northern borders of Arthur's kingdom.

They brought a warning not more than a day after the new King's coronation - the enemy wished to cease an opportunity as a strong King had died and a yet unproven one took his place. The message of impending war had been received. Enemy fighters were amassing in the central territories of the Isle, after joining forces with some of the rogue Saxons who had already taken parts of Northumbria.

Mercia will always trouble this King, Merlin thought to himself.

That night on the balcony when he found himself standing closely by the side of the secret Queen, she confided in him that she and Arthur had married the night before, not more than a fortnight after his father's death, witnessed only by Geoffrey who recorded it for the kingdom's rolls.

Arthur had asked for her hand in marriage every day since she had returned from Francia. Being the more practical of the two, she always refused him, knowing that although he was King and had already forged a path for their union, there would still be many in the court that would require time to accept the new ways of the young, eager man that would replace Uther Pendragon.

Since they were children, Merlin had recognized that the two had shared a bond, a strong connection beyond the bounds of friendship; but had their marriage not been repeatedly prophesized to him by Kilgharrah later on in life, he would have scarcely believed it would have happened. When Guinevere returned to court after her mother died, they had such a contentious relationship. All of their interactions seemed torrid to him but there must have been others, more tender in their nature, that he had not seen or chose to ignore.

At times he could admit to himself feeling the pangs of jealousy – for more than one reason or another.

Sitting, listening to Marcus squabbling from across the table with Lord Charles, he could understand why Arthur required another day before he could return to the petty wranglings of the council men. During the battles against the Mercian King, Arthur led along with all of his knights. No one man felt greater than the other.

It was not perfect, of course. They argued and there were moments of true contention but always they found peace with whatever had been decided and there was no malice after. At times Merlin found it hard to breathe from the stench of malevolence that now filled the great halls of the castle; and these were not even difficult times, he scoffed.

Head propped up against his knuckles as he stared at the empty chair belonging to the King, he wondered what these moments might have been like for Guinevere. They could not have been easy; she had to rule during drought and a costly war where scores of innocents poured into the city from the countryside to escape the wake of the fighting or the opportunistic plunderers who raped villages emptied of their husbands and sons.

Finding more comfort with his knights than with any of these so-called wise men, who during times of true struggle took shelter within the safety of rooms such these deep inside the castle, Arthur preferred to barked out his commands and that was often enough to silence this feeble lot.

He imagined that the Queen was more diplomatic – she needed to be, but in truth that was always the gift of her nature.

"And what are your thoughts, Merlin," Charles asked him.

He shook his idle head slightly and returned to the heated debate. "I agree with you Lord Charles," he answered.

"Thank you," he replied. "Then it is settled."

Merlin wasn't sure what had been agreed upon but the scowl that it had produced on the face of the advisor, Marcus, was satisfying enough. What in the world did he himself know of these matters anyway, he thought.

Lord Charles was the son of a wealthy merchant and had been Arthur's friend since they were boys. He was promoted to the council and given land and title as Earl of one of the most important and wealthiest territories in the King's realm. He was a man who had fought by his side. There is nothing he would not do for his King, to include marrying one of Arthur's indiscretions, taking her away from court and out of the sight of the Queen.

It still puzzled him how the two women were ever able to find a genuine friendship after having started out on such treacherous grounds.

Guinevere confessed that she was surprised that Lady Margaret accepted her invitation to return to court during the harsh, dry summer that came after the fighting had begun. War, he thought; it made friends of enemies some times and enemies of friends. He closed his eyes and sent away the image of the raven-haired woman that no longer strolled regally inside these walls.

"Merlin."

"Yes Lord Charles," he said as the room emptied of the council members. The Earl waited until all had left and the pair sat alone in the King's meeting chamber. The summer would be leaving soon, already the sun sets earlier.

"I cannot keep the council at bay much longer. Arthur must return at once." Merlin turned his eyes away from the window to look at the man. "The rumors grow stronger. Yesterday, you told us he would return today. They will not accept another promise of tomorrow."

Two more days had passed since he and Arthur spoke inside of Guinevere's bed chambers. Arthur had not left it since. The King did little more than spend time with his son and his infant daughter and lay beside his wife, preserved in sleep, enshrined by his magic. Merlin knew he had to release the hold that would protect her forever and allow her to wake. A part of him was still afraid of what might come next.

Uncertainty, doubt, apprehension – emotions he had not felt in a long time. They racked his body now.

No future was set in stone. Anything could be twisted to suit another's evil design. He considered for a moment how lonely life must have been for Morgana, feeling sent away and betrayed by your friends and family, unable to control your own destiny. In the end, it may be proven a better fate for Arthur to have lost the war instead of sacrificing his sister's life – Merlin wasn't as sure of these things now as he had been in the other times.

"Were you not able to save the Queen after all?"

Charles's question stopped short all his machinations. "No, she is well and I will speak with Arthur. Is the kingdom really so restless?"

The Earl shifted back into his chair. "The people worry about their Queen and whether or not the children are well. The nobles worry about the King and his sanity but that is mostly drunken chatter and can easily be subdued once Arthur is seen himself again. My concerns rest mostly with the council members who bicker with each other and seek only opportunity for personal gains while they believe the King is too distracted. It is fortunate that Lancelot and the other knights are here, there is no telling to what ends their scheming might result."

The man sighed despondently.

After a moment passed Merlin told him, "He will return tomorrow, I promise and the Queen and the children will be shown to the people soon after."

"My wife worries for her," he said. "If you could ask the King to permit us to see her as soon as she is able, it would give us comfort. They had grown so close while we were away."

Merlin nodded. After the Earl left the room, he returned his attentions to the sky and the approaching evening. He thought of Morgana again and of what his life was like when he had been just a servant, Guinevere a maid and Arthur a Prince. Time has a way of drawings lines in the sand with one's happiness.

As children, they wanted for little and cared for less. They ran freely, stomping their feet without ever looking down to see whether or not they would land on solid ground. Now there are perils everywhere, they mattered not if one can see them or cared enough to look – they lived beneath every step.

The mighty warlock spoke the words of the old religion and in an instant his eyes flashed a bright yellow that rival the vision of the twilight scene just beyond the window. It was done. He slouched into the chair and sat quietly, staring, waiting for night to swallow the remains of the day.

In moments such as these, he once thought he could see forever into the future that lay ahead of all of them. In a way, the doubt creeping about him brought some relief. He was never truly comforted by all his gift. He was no longer alone now though, he thought; yet still he did not understand the full extent of Morgana's powers or all her aims.

Despite everything, the years of friendship and the closeness they shared, all of the misdeeds, the secrets and betrayals – real and imagined –, they were enemies now and their war was coming. Yet still, he and the raven-haired woman were kin.

* * *

**A/N: Please review and let me know what you think.**


	6. Water Sleeps, the Enemy Wakes

It was very late when he woke or rather it was quite earlier. His sleep had lasted all through the night again and he knew it was unnatural, both of theirs were. Arthur stared at her. Every morning since Merlin had saved her life, he would wake this way, with her still asleep, but alive and breathing smooth, even breaths beside him. Perhaps tomorrow she will wake and he will watch her hold their daughter in her arms as she did with their son before.

He eased his heavy frame from the bed, trying not to wake her. His movements went unnoticed. He caught sight of himself in her mirror. It had only been a few days but his face looked drawn. He had not been eating well and it had been too many days since he had behaved as he should.

He went to her window and saw that the dawn was still waiting. The courtyard was empty and many of the torches had already been snuffed out by the forceful winds of the evening. The children were in another room, both of them cried too loud and too frequently to allow their parents any rest at all.

He left the window and the dawn, the room and his wife. Today he must be King not husband.

* * *

Inside his chambers, he saw Justus sleeping uncomfortably on a small chair that the young man had propped up beside the wall. His quarters were in impeccable order. The servant had little to do the past few days – Helewys had taken over most of the man's chores since Arthur spent all the entire time in her mistress's chambers.

He nudged him at the shoulder.

"Sire," he fumbled, rubbing his eyes as if he had seen a ghost. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, I fell asleep."

"It is all right, Justus. It is still night time," he said managing a weak smile.

"Would you like me to get you something to eat, Sire?" he asked.

"Yes. Meats, lots of meats and I should have a bath as well."

"I'll set out a fresh tunic," he added.

"No. I will need to address the court," he explained.

The young man nodded understanding that the King would require more appropriate garb for this day's activities.

The morning had barely arrived but the King was already seated in his chair within his council room. Geoffrey announced the arrival of his advisors. They entered and all of the men took their seats but none of them spoke anything more than a respectful greeting. A slight amount of shock and more than a noticeable measure of apprehension wore on almost every one of their faces.

They read their reports to him, each of them, and he listened as best as he could, fixing his expression so as to convince them of it. There were no great struggles on this day and prior decisions had met with his favor. Finally Marcus inquired on behalf of the listless group.

Arthur wondered if the man had any real concern for her well-being. "The Queen is recovering and should return to her duties in due time. Thank you for your query, Marcus," he answered.

The man bowed his head in respect and left with the others. Lord Charles was the only one who stayed behind. His sorcerer, Merlin had chosen not to attend the early morning assembly.

He spoke for a long time with his friend and he assured him that Guinevere was indeed well and soon she would be allowed to take visitors again.

"Where is Lancelot?"

"Still in the castle, but he and the Princess do not visit court very often. He never had a taste for it, he said."

"I understand his feeling. I do not like the council, Charles," he told him. "They have too many vices and run amuck when no one is around to witness it."

His friend did not answer him.

Geoffrey knocked and announced that the court had been assembled as he had ordered. Rising from his seat he entered the hall to what were mostly, happy faces – some were all too obviously relieved. His audience applauded and cheered. He spoke to them and smiled, allaying their concerns as his sorcerer had wished.

It was hours before he had tired of receiving each of them and briefly discussing their solace in hearing that their Queen and his children were well. These faces were more sincere than the group of men in his meeting room and so the tedious nature of the deed faded away from thought as a genuine love was displayed by all.

He returned to his confined space for his mid day meal and spent the day locked away reading through more reports and signing orders; rededicating himself to the work of being King. The candles had been replaced once already and now they were burnt half way down the stem.

Tomorrow, he decided, he would begin to train with the knights again. It would offer better distraction than ink and parchment. He wandered the halls for a while, taking in the peacefulness that only seemed to exist at this time of day.

He dismissed Justus, choosing to undress in lonely solitude, as he had during more trying times in his less stately tent when he stood by finer men and fought to return to this place, still with breath.

He did not hear her enter. When he stood to set aside his boots and travel the short distance to Guinevere's bed chambers, he just caught sight of her image. She shone like the moon itself inside the darkness of the room.

"Arthur," she called and extended her hands to him. "Arthur, I have missed you."

"I have missed you too," his voice responded in a cracking utterance.

"I do not believe you," she said moving closer to him. "You never loved me as much as you loved her."

"That's not true."

"So you do not love her?" She asked with a modest tilt of her head.

"No, I love you both."

"So why will you not come to see me? To see our son? He has your eyes, Your Majesty."

Arthur could feel the air escaping his chest in quick beats and then returning just as fast.

"Do you not love all your children, my Lord?" she asked with an unassuming innocence.

"Morgana, stop this," he begged. "That child is not my son."

"He is your first born, Arthur and the rightful heir to your throne."

"No," he replied, enraged by the words and by her.

He expected his sister to let loose her suffering in a riot of angry words, but she smiled and drew nearer to him so that her hand could touch his face.

"You only say that now. Soon you will say otherwise."

In a heartbeat they were inside of Guinevere's quarters.

"This is a dream?"

"Yes, my darling," she said. Her hand fell away from his face and she sat next to the Queen. "She is so beautiful. It was once Guinevere and I who used to sleep together when we were girls."

"I am sorry that it was by my actions that you were made to leave us. Had I had another choice, I would have made it."

"We would brush each other's hair and tell stories about what our lives would be like when we became wives and mothers. She pretended not to love you then. Very poorly," She added with a chuckle. "And you tried so hard to show her how much you cared. You only wanted her to love you."

"Do not touch her," he said, grabbing fruitlessly at his sister's hand.

His fingers passed through her image. He regarded a glimmer of cheer in her smile as she took to her feet again.

"I love her, Arthur, as I love you. I would not harm you or your family. We only wish to be home again. Mordred wishes to be his people."

"Merlin says that he is not good and that you are changed."

"Merlin lies. You cannot trust him. He lusts for your possessions. All of your possessions." She looked to the Queen.

Arthur followed her gaze. He eyes narrowed at her meaning. "No, that cannot be true."

Her eyes shot back at him. "Do not be foolish, brother. Be wary of the man who stays away from you in bliss and then returns just in time to save your wife, only to make her sleep. What do you think he fills her dreams with? Images of you? Of your children?"

"Morgana, please," he responded, near tears.

She lifted his head, holding both sides of his face so as to force his eyes to capture hers. The mutual gaze was but for a moment and then he shut his eyes away.

"I have always spoken the truth to you, brother. He keeps her here, not for her benefit or yours, but for his own devious plotting. I know it is difficult for you to believe me. He has been with you these many years since I have been gone and he has spoken such untruths, but I will prove myself to you again, Arthur. I will wake her for you."

Arthur opened his eyes to look down at his sister. She was smiling again.

"Go to her. Lay with her." She led him the bed and he followed, lying next to his still sleeping wife. "Close your eyes," she told him, still smiling.

Placing her palm to rest about his head, he was able to do as she had asked.

"Sleep and soon you will be with our Guinevere again," she whispered.

* * *

"Arthur. Arthur, wake up."

His eyes shot open, seeking out the voice.

"Guinevere," he said.

"Arthur, what's the matter? You woke me. You are soaked through," she said using her hand to remove the sweat from his head and face and chest.

He grabbed her to see if she was real. The inside of his hand made contact with the warmth of her cheek. He closed his eyes and exhaled, then opened them again just to be certain. "You are real."

Her mouth twisted with a little smile and then it broadened. "Of course I am. Whatever else could I be?"

He captured her lips for long, deep kiss. He never wanted to stop, but she pulled away to reclaim control of her breathing. A tinge of redness flooded her skin.

"Arthur, is everything all right?" She asked him.

He swallowed and tried to ignore the worried look upon her face.

"You almost left us," he said to her. He watched as her features morphed as a sad realization washed over her.

"The baby?" She asked. Both of her hands clutched at his shirtless body.

"She is well. Everyone is better now. You have been sleeping for many days."

She forced the air from her chest and her eyes blinked rapidly, sending streams of tears rushing down her cheeks.

"I have to see them."

"No. You need to rest."

She shook her head, mouth agape heaving wafts of air into her small body. Her sorrow intensified from a gentle sobbing to a torrent of wailing. He swallowed her form into his arms.

"Arthur, I need to see my children," she plead.

She continued crying into his already sodden neck. He tried to console her loud bawling, but he could never pacify her as easily or as effortlessly as she could appease him and in truth this moment's revelation was no occasion for serenity for her. The doors swung open and her maid and the wet nurse stormed into the room.

"My Lady," she cried out, moving straight to the bed and nearly tearing the Queen from the King's arms.

Arthur flinched, but his wife had fallen into her maid's embrace; it seemed to calm her some. "Bring the children," he told the wet nurse.

Helewys stroked the Queen's dark curls and wiped away the tears from her face. He watched the women together and thought of his sister and of the dream that had his partially naked body covered in sweat.

His wife was distressed from learning that she nearly died and having been away from her family for far longer than she likely assumed upon waking. He placed his hand on her shoulder and she raised her head to look at him.

His fingers spoke of his jealousy, easing down to her arm and growing tighter as they went. She returned to him, throwing her body against his and wrapping herself close. With his hand, he repeated the soothing action he observed from the woman still sitting on the royal couple's bed.

The nurse reappeared with their young daughter in her arm and a heavy-eyed Llacheu braced against her hip.

"Guinevere," he whispered.

Her eyes looked up at him and then over to the woman inching her way towards them. Arthur took his boy while the baby girl was tucked into their mother's arms.

"We'll be fine now," he told them. The women on either side of the bed did not move. "We will call you if we need anything," he reassured them.

They crept away slowly until they were out of the room and had locked the door behind them.

He and his son sat silently, watching the sobbing woman hold the tiny doll-like thing swaddled in the royal linens with the image of the family's namesake embroidered in gold threads against the bright red fabric. She cradled her close to her breast.

"She looks just like you when she sleeps," she said faintly. "Let's hope she does not sound like you too."

He laughed a little. He was grateful that she could still sense whenever he was anxious. He looked down to see that the boy child had already fallen asleep again.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I should not have behaved that way. It frightened you."

She looked at him and he kissed her forehead. "I love you," he said.

"I love you too, Sire."

It was a gentle rebuke. As if she knew he had not been himself for too long a time while she had been sleeping.

"I'd like a bath, tomorrow, with the baby. When the sun is warmest," she told him.

It was something she had done with Llacheu the day after he was born, but then it was winter then and the fire had to be made large to keep them warm. Her mother had done the same with her. He nodded and she smiled and kissed him once more.

She rocked the child in her arms and hummed softly. She did not fall asleep.

* * *

Tomorrow came, bright and inspiring. The King and Queen ate together for the first time in a month. It was something they had not done since that morning, just days after Lancelot's return where he greeted them with Princess Elaine on his arm. The four of them sat together in the royal family's private dining room and there was no hint of deceit or anxiety.

When his pregnant wife and the Princess left them to gawk at their son, Lancelot told him of his desire to wed King Alinad's daughter. Arthur was pleased to hear that the chivalrous man had even considered such things.

They laughed together, as men do. And then his most favorite knight continued speaking, confessing the truth of his birth and his abdicated claim on a vast stretch of lands and untold wealth from distant shores. It was curious news.

But then Lancelot spoke of his father and of a blade that matched the one affixed to the wall above the hearth in the Arthur's own sleeping quarters; the sword that the Duchy from Rouen had gifted a young king from the Isles, who had just lost his father. He told Arthur that the sword's twin, forged as a sign of brotherhood, was similarly displayed in his modest home in Sussex and that it was the only thing he had taken from his disregarded kingdom when he had returned home from fighting for his King against the Mercians and the Saxon hoards.

Arthur recalled the harsh sting of betrayal. The tale returned old insecurities and reminded him of a time that he had long forgotten and had chosen willfully to forget. His friend, his knight was the same man who had fallen in love with Guinevere after a chance meeting and had sought to take her from him by sending an emissary from his father's court with enough gold tidings to compensate any king for the loss of at least two handmaidens, but Guinevere was no mere serving girl to this King.

His furious words and his vitriolic response almost robbed one or both of them of their lives, though nothing hurt more than the moment when he confronted her, summoning her and her swollen belly to his chambers to endure his irate and basely accusations.

To him, his wife – even before she was his wife – was always something delicate, something that had to be tended to and set aside out of the view of others to keep safe and intact. When they were younger, his behavior in that moment would have caused her to match his subdued rage and she would have been justified in her response.

But time and responsibilities far greater than caring for your mistress had changed her and although he always felt her his equal, on that day, she proved herself to be better.

She remained regal in the face of his boorish treatment and quietly accepted his favoring Marcus instead her to manage the kingdom while he went to seek out his sorcerer in the woods. 'You are not fit for such things in your current condition' was the best he could muster in the moment as a sort of an explanation for the demotion and a weak attempt at a subtle apology.

Things are different now though. Now, she is well and has forgiven him of his latest trespass. Once more he trains with Lancelot and all his faithful knights and yes, even his sorcerer and friend too had returned home.

* * *

King Arthur looked around the room at all the faces he had convened in the large hall: his friends, Sir Lancelot, Lord Charles and his sorcerer, Merlin; his knights, Sir Leon, Sir Alex and Sir Hector too; and even men of the council such as Marcus.

With the Queen at his side, he spoke to them.

"I have called all of you here, so that you may see that I am true to my word. After my father, King Uther, died, I promised the people a new kingdom, united in a single purpose. In this hall, we will sit at a new table, where all men's opinions shall be spoken freely and all men are to listen willingly. You are my equals, each of you, whether I have fought beside you to keep peace and happiness in these lands with a sword in my hand or a piece of parchment by my fingers."

That night he roamed the halls again, but he was not alone. They ended the walk together in the turret overlooking the quiet lands, made bright by an improbably large moon.

"You have made a great kingdom today, Arthur. It will be celebrated."

The King smiled.

"The druids and my kind already have a name for it."

Arthur turned his head to look at his friend in wonder and anticipation.

"Camelot," the warlock said. "It will be a place of peace and prosperity for all men and remembered through the ages."

Arthur looked away. "It was only a small step," he replied.

"I know," Merlin said. "But it was right the one."

"Merlin".

"Yes, Arthur."

"I have sent a letter to my sister. I have asked her to return to the castle, to reunite our families."

He turned his eyes to meet his sorcerer's gaze.

"I know, Arthur."

"It was once your wish. Has anything changed?"

The warlock did not speak instead he stepped closer to stand beside the man and both of them look at the kingdom stretched out before them.

"So, it is done then," the King said.

"Yes, it is done."

* * *

**This is the final chapter in this installment of this story. The full title should have been "water sleeps, the enemy wakes and all is undone" but there are limitations on that we must all live with. The first part of title "water sleeps, the enemy wakes" is a Turkish proverb/saying. It worked for this chapter for me.**

**I apologize because there was a lot that came before the "Sins of the Father" section and there is still more that will be written in the future, but I've decided that this will be the only section that I will publish. The story was based more on the legend than on the BBC version and I hope that was not too troubling for most of you. Thank you to everyone who read all the chapters, especially those of you who tracked, fav'd, reviewed it and PM'd me about the story. I appreciate it. **

**If you have any questions or wanted to give feedback without reviewing, please send me a PM.**


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